<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>All Rise by Theis54321</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25930558">All Rise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theis54321/pseuds/Theis54321'>Theis54321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aether Shorts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cause I can't write a proper build-up apparently, Confrontation With The Big Bad, Fantasy, Final Battle, Gen, In Medias Res? I guess? It starts at the end though, medieval setting, short read</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:00:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25930558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theis54321/pseuds/Theis54321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The call of battle, the stench of death. May the sun never set on the fallen, for the dark holds no comfort. In the ruins left from the cataclysm, one last conflict remains to be seen...<br/>-----<br/>A short story I drafted up, in which a band of heroes finally meets with their final hurdle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aether Shorts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All Rise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once emerald green fields lie in shattered ruin. Blackened patches of burning debris and smoldering craters scar the land as acrid smoke billows from the flames. Bodies lie scattered in the thousands, bespeckled across the wasteland. </p><p>Human, Elven, Dwarven, monster and humanoid alike. Some seem almost peaceful, as they rest in varying states, some nigh-unrecognizable, torn to shreds, and yet some in almost perfect condition, save for a lesion revealed in some corner of their body.</p><p>Of the fallen, none shall rest. The battle has not concluded. The reaper's toll is not yet complete; six figures remain standing across the rubble. </p><p>In the center of the barren spans of no-man's-land, descending from the skies, the Primordial Archking himself. Aberrant, ethereal light radiates off of his visage, eyes aglow with malice and pride alike. Scaled across his shimmering body is a gleaming mass of silver armor, undulating and twisting like flesh, as if it remains merely an extension of his body.</p><p> </p><p>Surrounding him, are five would-be adventurers. From different paths they had stemmed, all intersecting as fate decreed. Through the darkness and light equally, they stood as stalwart companions. This will be no different...right?</p><p>"Heroes are a quaint concept, aren't they?" The king utters, a regal smile on his face. His eyes glitter with a frantic, terrifyingly collected mania as he spreads his arms wide out, the glow of his body flaring up.</p><p>The first of his adversaries brandishes a dagger, wiping away the remains of freshly-spilled blood from its blade, a clear remnant from his previous victim. The second and third adventurers raise their blades in response, one crackling with intense fire, the other shining with a gentle, yet determined glow. The black and gold armor on their bodies reflects and refracts the unholy glow of the king's own light. The fourth merely ready an ebony black staff, the air shivering as the shadows around him <em>condense. </em>And the fifth and final? He merely clenches his massively muscled fists, a wild grin running across his adrenaline-laced visage.</p><p>"No words, heroes? No speech to greet me as you prepare to strike me down?" The primordial tilts his head, genuinely confused for a moment. This remark is met with varying reactions. The swordmasters grip their blades tighter. The dagger-wielder and staff-bearer betray no hint of emotion. And the man dedicated to his bare hands? His grin only widens, bloodshot eyes glinting in the silver light.</p><p> </p><p>"Haha. Very well. I can see it written plain on your faces. You meet me with vengeance. With fire, fury, and determination. My underlings have been slain, and my peers have been torn asunder. For that, I have you to thank."</p><p>"After all, where 'evil' springs, heroes will rise to stop us. For every sin, a sacrament. For every villain, a hero!"</p><p>The king bursts into laughter, before eyeing each and every one of his enemies, bloodlust erupting in his eyes. </p><p>
  <strong>"It truly is unfortunate that you will meet your end here."</strong>
</p><p>And with a roar, the final struggle begins.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>